September
by constantlearner
Summary: Set in September and early October 1939. Mainly told from Peggy's POV. Bridget Walker is an evacuee at Beckfoot, as are Elspeth and Colin, the children of " Mac" who owns the Sea Bear. Peggy may consider her job in the post office to be dull compared to Nancy's role in the WRNS, but that's not to say that life by the Lake is peaceful.
1. Chapter 1

**September : chapter one**

"Um..Peggy what should I do with these?" Elspeth held out a bundle of letters, mostly still in their opened envelopes.

At Mrs Blackett's insistence, Elspeth and Bridget were sorting out their bedroom, formerly the domain of the Amazon pirates. Peggy was putting her things away in the spare room, self-consciously setting a good example. Bridget had cheerfully plonked her clothes in the chest of drawers, on top of the lining paper already there. Of course, Elspeth anxious to do things right, would think to re-line the drawers. Peggy could not recall ever having re-lined her drawers. She rather suspected Susan did so regularly.

Colin appeared behind his sister and swiped from the top two letters from the pile, dancing back out of reach.

"Bet they're love letters." He said gleefully. "Shall I read them?"

"Hand them over, I'll write and see what Nancy wants done with them." Peggy said. Elspeth thrust the bundle into Peggy's outstretched hand. Colin moved further out of reach.

"Come on, Colin, those too, please." Years of knowing Roger had taught Peggy not to rise to the bait.

Colin opened one of the envelopes and read, "Dear Nancy, I've almost no news at all to tell you, which is hardly surprising since it's only a couple of hours since we waved you off at the station! Titty has cheered up"

"Beast!" The palm of Bridget's hand made resounding contact with Colin.

"Give those letters to me." Peggy knew if she had to take them – and she could easily- she would have lost something that would be hard to win back.

"That isn't funny. It's just nasty and cheap and for all you know you could be laughing at them and… and they could be…"

"Bridget!" Peggy said. She wasn't quite sure if Bridget was going to cry or not, but the youngest Walker's voice sounded perilously close to it. "Bridget, it is not up to you to slap Colin, however badly he is behaving. Go to your room, close your door and don't come out until I tell you."

The speed with which Bridget obeyed her told its own tale.

"She hit me and she called me nasty and cheap and a beast and"

"Colin, that will do. You can go to your room, shut the door and not come out until I say either."

At least, Peggy thought she had time to think about what she was going to going to do next. She could hand the matter over to Mother. She may as well give up on being a proper adult there and then, if she did that. Elspeth was hovering anxiously.

"I'm really sorry Peggy, I didn't realise that Colin would do that." Elspeth said tentatively.

Oh, but you weren't surprised when he did. Peggy thought to herself, and that tells me something.

Aloud she said, "None of that was your fault, and no-one thinks it is. Better go downstairs and find something else to do, until I decide to let them out."

Peggy had been surprised, she admitted to herself. Not by the secret cache of letters – she'd known about Nancy's not very secret hiding place for years. She's found it when raiding the drawer for handkerchiefs during an especially unpleasant cold. The drawer on Nancy's side of the chest of drawers had seemed so much shallower than her own. It had never occurred to her to unpin the lining paper and read the letters. If it was pirate stuff, Nancy would have told her soon enough. Nancy didn't leave her out of things.

Hiding the letters somewhere else in the house would only cause trouble later. There had been a few girls at school who would have behaved as Colin had done (perhaps more secretively). Writing _Edith Beasconsfield_ _has such a terrible nose – I suppose she doesn't realise – she never sees herself from the side poor girl _in her diary had been rather fun at the time. Edith had spent a lot of time trying to see her profile in the mirror over the next few days and was duly reprimanded for vanity by matron. Peggy had been tempted to try something more elaborate, but had found the effort of writing the ordinary diary entries to pad it out distinctly dull. By the end of January she had used the diary only to count the days left until their return home.

She was most likely to find what she wanted in Uncle Jim's study. For a few minutes she toyed with the idea of hiding the letters in there – the room after all was forbidden to all the children. She didn't trust Colin to obey that rule. Poacher turned game-keeper, that's what she was, Peggy thought, poking about in cupboards. She and Nancy had, after all, encouraged Dick to burgle the study, had slipped out of the house at night, had been late for innumerable mealtimes. Nancy had set the firecracker off on Uncle Jim's houseboat roof, but Peggy would have willingly done it herself. She would have asserted her right to do so, indeed, had she chanced to be the elder. Ah, a tin with a reasonably well-fitting lid. The inside of the lid was scorched, but it was big enough, which was all that mattered.

No, it wasn't the same. It wasn't quite the same anyway. The Amazons had been wild and sometimes disobedient. They would never have jeered at people's real feelings as Colin had done.

Wild Cat Island was the obvious place to hide the tin with the letters in it. She would have to bury it, though, and the soil was quite shallow in many places. Besides it was too calm for sailing. It would have to be this side of the Lake then. Anywhere close to the house was likely to be dug up and planted with vegetables. They had already made a start on digging up some of the lawn. The dog's home? No, it was all too likely that the children would play there quite a lot over the coming months. Titty had made Bridget promise that she would not tell the "baby Macs" about Peter Duck. Peggy could hide the tin there. She could do with getting out of the house, if she was being honest with herself.

She added a piece of paper with "Private – keep out unless your name is Nancy Blackett" on it on top of the letters in the tin and tied string round the tin securely. She would walk to Swallowdale across the fell but come back by the road. She'd call in on the Swainsons on the way back. It seemed half the Lake had been complaining about their evacuees (The other half had the evacuees complaining about them.) but no news had been received from Mary. It was hard to imagine anyone not liking Mary. Mary could even manage to feel sorry for the great aunt. Peggy had just finished tying a knot in the string when she realised what she had done.

"Galoot." She said to herself since Nancy was not there to say it. "That's what comes of planning and not thinking about what I'm doing now." Nancy was always doing that, which was how she missed so many things that Peggy spotted. Susan did it too.

Peggy had just altered Nancy Blackett to Nancy Walker and tied up the tin for a second time when Mother came into the room.

"Elspeth's moping about."

"I thought she might. Some of it is embarrassment I think. Colin knows perfectly well what he was doing was wrong, I'm sure. I don't think Bridget will see half an hour by herself has too much of a punishment. I thought she was pretty near weeping. Colin would never let it go if she had."

"She could do with it, I think." Mother agreed.

Peggy hugged her Mother. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise how much trouble I was landing you with when I suggested it."

"Compared to some of the problems, it isn't trouble. They haven't got lice; they aren't sewn in to their vests; they do know what a bath is for and they don't bite."

"Most of the problems we've heard about can't be all that common. It's always someone who knows someone who has evacuees like that. Except the bedwetting."

"Some of them are awfully young, Peggy, and they think their homes and families may be bombed by Hitler at any minute. They're bound to be terribly upset."

"I know – I just wish we'd thought to stockpile some of those Mackintosh sheet things to lend out when we were talking about this over a year ago."

Mother chuckled. She always did sound like Nancy when she did that.

"Very Susan-ish." Mother said. "But I came to tell you that Timothy is here. He's in the yard."

"But I thought - He can't possibly be shy of Elspeth and Colin. And he knows Bridget."

"I think three of them do count as a horde as far as our Mr Stedding it concern. But Elspeth hasn't given him much chance. She's busy quizzing him about that motor-bicycle of his. The one I'm not allowed to try."

Peggy hugged her Mother again. "Think of the fix we'd be in if you were laid up."

Mother looked at the knapsack and the tin.

"Hiding them?"

"I was going to take them to Swallowdale."

"Hiding them in the cave? What was it Titty called it?"

"Peter Duck."

"Doesn't Bridget know about it?"

"Bridget does, yes, but Titty said not to tell the others. If Colin's still the sort of little tick who reads other people's letters for fun, no-one should be telling him anything of the sort – and you can't tell Elspeth and expect her not to tell."

Molly shot a swift glance at Peggy.

"Timothy came to say goodbye. You'd better go and speak to him. Do I tell Bridget and Colin they can come out in half an hour, supposing you don't do it yourself?"

"Yes, although I can't see how "goodbye" could take half an hour."

"Were you going somewhere? I didn't mean to hold you up." Timothy said as Peggy came into the yard, ducking under the washing line.

"Just something I need to put somewhere safe." said Peggy. "It isn't all that urgent."

Elspeth shifted uneasily and said, "Goodbye, Mr Stedding and good luck – and thank you so much for the explanation – it was very interesting." She remembered, just, to shake hands before going back into the house at a run.

Timothy grinned wryly. "It's not often I meet someone even shyer than I am myself."

He caught sight of Peggy's expression and laughed properly. "Even I can see the funny side of my shyness. Did you think I didn't?"

Peggy blushed and found herself saying "How did you get on?" as if she had been asking after a trial for a hockey team, which made her blush worse. Timothy didn't seem to mind.

"Royal Engineers," he said, "which was what I wanted."

"Good." said Peggy, "I'm glad. I mean, I'm not glad, exactly, but.."

"But if we have to have a war, you're glad I seem to have had some choice in what I do."

Peggy nodded. It seemed slightly odd that she should be the one lost for words. On the other hand Timothy always was good in a crisis. Peggy thought most of Europe being at war was probably as big as a crisis got.

"I wonder if you'd look after the bike for me? It might yet get commandeered of course." They both looked at the Royal Enfield anxiously at this point. It seemed all too probable.

"Don't let the petrol just evaporate – use it when and while you can. But only you, Peggy, don't let your mother talk you into anything, nor Nancy if she should end up back at Beckfoot."

"I don't think she's likely to get thrown out. She isn't that wild. Neither of us are, whatever Uncle Jim says."

"I know that."

There was a small silence.

Timothy asked "Where were you going? Shall we use up some of the petrol now?"

Peggy suddenly felt much more cheerful. "Swallowdale. I was going to walk across the fell and come back by the road. We could leave the bike with the Swainsons – it's quite a short walk up to Swallowdale along the stream. I'll get my hat."

She put her head around the kitchen door. "I'm just.."

"…..Off for a last ride with Mr Stedding." Cook finished for her. "I'll keep your tea for you – and your supper if needs be."

Peggy settled the red knitted cap on her head thoughtful as she crossed the yard and settled herself behind Timothy. She was quite glad that conversation between pillion passenger and rider was so difficult that it was not really worth the effort.

"I'd better run in and see if it's alright with Mary." Peggy said when they got to Swainson's farm. "You don't have to come in if you'd rather not."

"Oh, I think it would be more polite if I did."

"If you're sure."

You couldn't be shy with the Swainsons, Peggy thought, but ever since Nancy and John had come back from the Baltic last summer, old Mr Swainson seemed to be determined on seeing romance in the most improbably places. He had even become convinced that Roger had a "young lady." It gave Mr Swainson a great deal of pleasure and harmed no-one. The potential for embarrassment today was huge and Timothy seemed just the sort of person who would mind.

Oddly though, he didn't, and it was Peggy who felt like squirming. She exchanged embarrassed grins with Margaret Burchard who was shelling peas at the kitchen table, while keeping an eye on little Mary-Jane and her own small daughter, Edna. Peggy was rather glad when Edna abandoned the rather wobbly tower of wooden bricks and came to stand near her. However hard she concentrated on what Edna was saying, she could not help overhearing some of what Mr Swainson said.

"Have you got a sister?"

"Yes, I've got a big sister."

"I'm going to have a little sister. Mummy says it might be a little brother, but I want a sister. I told Mummy I wanted a big sister, but she said it had to be a little one. I suppose it's because of the war. Mummy says we won't be able to get the usual things while the war's on. It's not fair."

"They grow. I expect you'll get to love your little brother or little sister when they arrive."

_You're a lucky fellow with his head screwed on right._

"How do you know?"

"My friend has two little sisters and a little brother and she loves them."

_She's the better cook of the two._

"Did she get to choose?"

"No one gets to choose."

_Prettier too!_

"So who decides then?"

"I think it just happens. It's random."

_Not that her sister isn't fine-looking too._

"What's random?"

"When things just happen." Peggy felt herself in deep waters. "Anyway that means you're going to be a big sister."

_Married a young man in the navy. Good fellow. Doesn't sing as well as his brother. His brother brought his young lady to meet me._

Why doesn't Timothy do something about getting away? Peggy thought.

"I'll know lots and lots if I'm a big sister won't I?"

"All the big sisters I know think that."

"Peggy and Timothy will want to be getting away for their walk now." Mary said coming in from the dairy.

"Aye," Mr Swainson chuckled, "aye."

Unable to bear it any longer, Peggy said her good-byes and went out. Timothy followed her, seemingly unruffled. Peggy set a fast pace up the path and was soon hot enough to excuse her flaming cheeks. Timothy kept pace easily and had breath to spare for conversation.

"So what's this I'm hearing about Roger and a girlfriend?"

"Roger is a favourite with Mr Swainson. It's the singing you see. Mr Swainson has become convinced that Roger not only has a young lady but has brought her to meet the Swainsons. He can never quite remember the young lady's name."

"But it's always on the tip of his tongue – some outlandish name." Timothy said solemnly.

"That's it." said Peggy.

"I'm sorry if you were embarrassed."

"The Swainsons have been friends a long time."

Peggy felt rather relieved Timothy was not much of a talker as they continued up the path.

They had hidden the tin in Peter Duck and returned to Beckfoot. The Royal Enfield had been ensconced in the old stable and Timothy had stayed for an early supper after all and had said goodbye to everyone else again, he swung his haversack on his shoulder and said. "Walk as far as the bridge with me, Peggy?"

"If you like." She had far rather not. Was it all going to be terribly awkward?

They reached the bridge.

"So long," said Timothy, "I wouldn't be surprised if you do get your chance to do something else sooner than you think. Remember what I said about not letting the petrol evaporate. It's yours until I come back."

And he shook her hand again and went striding off into the dusk so quickly she barely had a chance to say good-bye and good luck.

Molly Blackett had chased the three children upstairs, if not to bed, by the time Peggy got back. Peggy came into the drawing room and flopped down next to her mother on the sofa with a sigh.

"For a day of rest, that wasn't very restful. I'll be glad to be back at work tomorrow for the peace and quiet. Were we really as much work – Nancy and I?"

"Sometimes – but not in the same way. How is Mary Swainson getting on with her evacuees?"

"She's not Mary Swainson anymore, remember – but very well indeed. Little Edna's a bit older than Mary-Jane, but not so much older that they can't play together. I don't think she'll have long to wait for her new brother or sister. Margaret Burchard seemed quiet but friendly."

"There's this girls' school that has moved to the head of the Lake. It only takes eleven to sixteen year olds. It might not be as good as the schools they were at." Molly said doubtfully.

Peggy knew what she meant "Probably not, but they could always shove them up a form if needs be. If we put the seats and handlebars right down on my bike and Nancy's, they can cycle there. Elspeth's a bit short in the leg but I should think she'll be alright."

"Sammy was saying that they're doing local kids in the morning and evacuees in the afternoon, over in "Rio". Do you think they'll take Colin?"

"It's worth taking Colin with you and seeing. The sooner the better I should say." Peggy caught herself yawning. "Speaking of which, do I have to go and do a stern telling-off?"

"I gave them a telling-off but there is nothing to stop you adding your twopennoworth if you like. In one way this is easier."

Peggy lifted an enquiring eyebrow at her mother and waited.

"You're here."

Later, Peggy was brushing her teeth. Bridget had apologised. Colin had not. Still, his real offence had been against Nancy or perhaps John and it was a bit much to expect him to write and confess to them. Peggy thought confessing something like that to John would be much worse. _Give it a few months, _she promised herself in the mirror,_ give it a few months and I'll join up. I'll join something. Let everything get settled here first._

* * *

Next morning there were three letters. One from Susan, one from Nancy and one in writing she didn't recognise. Peggy opened Nancy's first, and then Susan's skimming them both quickly. Neither contained bad news and other news could wait. Alone for a moment in the post office, Peggy opened the third.

Jim Brading – she had danced with him at Nancy's wedding. A friend of the Walkers. The one who owned _Goblin, _or his uncle did. She was not quite sure she had remembered correctly. Anyway, he had joined the Navy, not surprising really in a friend of the Walkers.

_The senior partners clapped me on the shoulder and gave me their blessing. I kept expecting one of them to say "_It's up to you to uphold the honour of Honeyfield, Wragg and Woodley." _but neither of them did. It looks as though neither of them will get their retirement for a bit._

_I hope I remembered to say it at the time, but thank-you for your part in making John and Nancy's wedding so enjoyable. I'm well aware that bridesmaids, especially chief bridesmaids, do more than just look ornamental. Titty had tried explaining to me how lovely the lake and the hills were, but I still hadn't quite realised. The Walkers did send me a picture postcard a number of years ago, but when I came to pack my kit I couldn't find it._

Peggy glanced over at the postcard rack. They had ten different views, but there had been something of run on postcards already. She picked out one of each view, tucked them in her handbag and put the money in the till. She could send one a fortnight or one a week perhaps. It seemed such a small thing to be able to do for someone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Peggy in September: chapter two**

There simply won't be the petrol." Peggy explained. "You can sail across with me in the morning, bring your prep with you and get it done in the corner of the post office and then go up to the school in the afternoon."

"That's hours. I won't have hours of prep."

"They might give you more because you don't have school in the morning." Elspeth said.

"That's not fair. I'm not going to do it. It isn't my fault if I can't go to school in the morning."

"We've got morning and afternoon school, and prep." Bridget pointed out.

"You could go for a walk, when you've finished it." Mrs Blackett suggested.

"A walk." Colin managed to fill the syllables with utter contempt.

"I'm sure once you've made friends, you'll be able to play with them in the morning and all go to school together in the afternoon." Mrs Blackett suggested.

"There's that other dinghy. Why can't I sail across at just before I have to go to school."

"_Scarab_ belongs to Dick and Dot." said Bridget quickly.

"Would they let Peggy sail it?"

Reluctantly, Bridget had to nod.

"Well then, Peggy can sail _Scarab_ and I can sail _Amazon_."

"A dinghy is different." Elspeth suggested tentatively.

"Who says I'm lending Amazon out just like that?"

"Well you ought."

"Colin… you really shouldn't, Dad wouldn't like it if…" Elspeth began again.

"Dad's not here. You're not going to snitch are you? No one cares what you think anyway."

"Of course, I'm not going to snitch."

"You let Bridget sail it."

"Her." said Bridget.

"It's only a little dinghy."

"Bridget waits to be invited. And she does know what she's doing in a dinghy."

"I certainly couldn't let you sail about on the Lake by yourself." Mrs Blackett said.

Colin threw his spoon down in his stewed pears and stormed from the room.

"Lucky it wasn't blackberry and apple." said Bridget prosaically, surveying the splashes on the tablecloth.

* * *

The first day, Peggy took Colin round to the Misses Martindale in the morning. One of their evacuees was a boy from Liverpool of about Bridget's age. He wouldn't be in the same class at school, Peggy thought, but at least, Colin wouldn't have to walk into the playground, amongst children who already knew each other, by himself. Not that he'd done much to deserve such consideration really.

Colin came back impressed with the stuffed eagle that Miss Hetty and Miss Letty kept on the landing. Alf could roller-skate and would teach Colin how, as soon as his mother posted his roller-skates (which had used to be his brother's).

After a few days, Colin started mentioning Jack and Derek who were staying with the Jacksons with their mother and baby brother. Colin's mornings were spent at Holly Howe or with Alf. His afternoons were spent at school and in the evenings the children played with the old board games and jigsaws that were new to them. By the time Peggy had sent the second picture postcard to Jim Brading life at Beckfoot seemed to have settled down into a peaceful regular pattern and Peggy was thinking about suggesting that they look around for her replacement in post office.

"Miss Blackett." Fanny, who helped Mrs Jackson sometimes, came rushing into the post office. "Miss Blackett, Mr Jackson says can you come to Holly Howe as soon as you can be spared here please."

"Is it Colin? Is he hurt?" Peggy asked.

"In a manner of speaking it's him – and he isn't hurt. Leastways, he isn't yet. Nothing for you to worry about like that."

But plenty to worry about some other way, Peggy thought. She looked across at Mrs Hardman, who nodded at her.

"It's Wednesday half-day." Mrs Hardman said. "You're only missing an hour or so. You run along, Peggy, and sort it out."

Peggy was too relieved to mind being told to "run along" in front of a customer. Besides, it was only Miss Tomlinson, who had come out without her ear trumpet so as to be able carry a large bag of potatoes. She probably hadn't heard, and if she had probably still thought of Peggy as a child anyway.

"I'd go straight down to the boat-house if I were you." said Fanny as they approached Holly Howe. "That Mrs West's yelling and screeching and blaming everyone but her own lads. No wonder that Jack throws his weight around the way he does, she'll never say nay to him and takes agin anyone who does. That Derek's going the same way. Baby's alright – but then he's a baby yet."

There was _Swallow_. Jack, Derek and Colin stood around Mr Jackson. All were unharmed, and a trifle damp in patches rather than soaked. The older boy – Jack, Peggy thought, was arguing.

"…all Colin's fault. He said he could sail. I never believed him anyway. You shouldn't have a boat that people could nearly die in. Anyway, you can't blame us. Mother says you can't expect us to behave as well when Father's still in Manchester and we're here."

"And yet," said Peggy, "my brother-in-law managed not to steal, lie or blame a boy four years younger than himself for anything even with _his_ father in the navy for all those years. Strange that."

She took a breath. Losing her temper wouldn't help. It was strange how much she minded seeing _Swallow_ damaged. One, no, two planks stove in – above the water-line luckily. One gunwhale pretty badly smashed and the tiller. Very much a boat-builder's job. They would have to write to Mac about Colin's share, but the offer must be made and the money paid to Mr Jackson at once – or as near as once as Peggy could manage. She said as much.

"Mother won't be paying anything," said Jack a faint note of alarm in his voice.

"After all, we might have been drowned." Derek added.

"I suppose you're both too namby-pamby to have learned to swim then." said Peggy, letting the contempt drip from her voice like rain from an umbrella. She thought she might have overdone it.

"Of course we can. Jack's won lots of prizes for it at school. He won the 200 yards. Not here, at school at home. I have too. I won the 100 yards." Derek fired up at once.

"Shut up, Derek." Jack glanced uneasily at Peggy. "We don't have to listen to this. We don't have to stay here any longer Mother says. There aren't any air-raids. We're going home."

"What about the key?" asked Peggy. "Have you given it back to Mr Jackson yet?"

"What key?" Jack said defiantly. "I don't know anything about a key."

"In that case it becomes a police matter, of course." said Peggy. "Breaking and entering. You won't be able to go back home for the next few days in that case of course, until the police have finished investigating. Fanny will have to go back to the village to fetch the policeman."

"Give him the key, _please_, Jack. I don't like it here anymore." Derek was definitely the weakest point.

Jack flung the big key on the ground and followed his brother up the field back to the farm. Colin picked it up, rather nervously and handed it to Mr Jackson, who tucked it in his pocket.

Mr Jackson nodded to Peggy. "If you'll excuse me, Miss Blackett, I think I'll just see that a few things are in the place they should be."

"I'm sorry, Peggy." said Colin.

"So you should be. But I'm not the one you should be apologising to."

"I've apologised to Mr Jackson. Jack didn't like it much but I knew I should."

"The Jacksons most of all of course. But the Walkers are going to mind terribly too. " Rubbing it in a little would do no harm. "I'm dreading having to write and tell them."

"I'm going to get the belt for this, aren't I?" Colin asked.

"I shall think about that." said Peggy, who up until now hadn't been, but wasn't going to admit it.

"What did Mr Jackson mean, about seeing things were in their place?"

"If they stole the key, they might have stolen something else. Money for instance." Peggy thought the look of horror that flitted across Colin's face was genuine.

"Do you think they'd take money?"

"Yes."

"But that's… proper stealing."

"And stealing the boathouse key wasn't? Taking _Swallow_ wasn't?"

"I wasn't there when they took the key. But I knew it was wrong taking Swallow. They kept daring me and saying it was all made up about _Sea-bear_ and sailing with Dad. But we weren't going to go far and we were going to put her back when we'd finished. Taking money is different."

"You can still see that taking money is wrong now." said Peggy, "but I wonder if you still would have been able to see it in a few months' time. After all, when you went through my drawers looking for Nancy's letters, you didn't take the money from my purse, but you would have taken the letters – which also weren't yours."

"How did you know I did that?" Colin sounded shaken. Good.

"I notice things." Peggy tried to sound as dry and mysterious as possible. It would do no harm if she could have Colin a little in awe of her.

After some minutes she said, "_Swallow_ could do with bailing."

Colin bailed and Peggy continued to contemplate _Swallow_. It really would be much better if they could sail _Swallow _round to the boat-builders'. The mast and sail were fine. Peggy thought she could remember how Uncle Jim had patched _Swallow_ before. They would have to jury-rig a tiller. She wondered if Mr Jackson had any wood that would help. The Jacksons were short-handed already by one man, and Stan would have his birthday and be off to join up soon too. Peggy would have to as much of the patching as she could this afternoon. She could go and talk to the boat-builders too. The water wasn't coming in through the stove-in planks either. She remembered Uncle Jim saying _Swallow_ had not been badly strained that other time at Horseshoe Cove because the she wasn't letting much water in. Peggy wondered how much other damage there was this time. She had no idea what it would cost to put it right.

"Look here, Colin, how exactly did it happen? What did you hit?"

It wasn't until then that she realised Colin had been crying. And well he might. She wasn't going to offer sympathy, not just yet.

"Well, you know that bit sticking out."

"The promontory, Titty calls it Darien." Peggy said. Titty's names always did stick somehow.

"Well, there's a rock." she saw where he was pointing.

"Two of them actually."

"Yes, only I didn't see.. see the other one … and.."

Between sobs it came out. Colin hadn't seen the first rock until late, tried to avoid it, gybed and hit the other rock.

"It all went so fast." He concluded miserably.

Peggy thought it was just as well the three boys hadn't got any further.

The Mr Jackson who came back down the field was, despite everything, a happier man that one who had walked up it.

"They've gone. We'll never see a penny of what they owed for their keep, but then I don't think we ever would have." he said. "We'll do our bit for the duration of course. But afterwards – maybe we're getting a bit old to have strangers around the place. If you could have a word with the boat-builders this afternoon, Miss Blackett, I'd be grateful. Perhaps you could mention that if they hear of anyone wanting a dinghy, she'll be for sale. I paid fifteen pounds for her, but I'll not find anyone willing to pay that for her as she is."

He looked at Peggy.

"Well." he said, "and I was forgetting. There is plenty of shepherd's pie and I was to say if you'd like to like to have your dinner with us, you'd be very welcome. We were expecting Colin anyway."

Despite the awfulness of the news, Peggy managed to find a smile. Mother would expect it.

"Mrs Jackson's shepherd's pie is lovely." she said. "Thank-you very much."

**Author's note:**

Many, many thanks to Fergus Mason for explaining how to damage _Swallow _by just the right amount, and also for information on traditional punishment methods for Scottish children.


	3. Chapter 3

**September: Chapter 2**

**Author's note: **Again, many, many thanks to Fergus Mason for information about _Swallow. _

* * *

_Dear Peggy,_

_Gimminy. Was Colin a little swine like that last year or is this new? _

_Of course _Swallow_ can't be sold to just anyone – and she's not going to be! I enclose a cheque. It's made out to you, because I don't know how much you'll need to pay Mr Jackson and how much it will cost to repair her, but this should cover both. Maybe start by offering him £10? It depends a bit on the price of the repairs. This is a present for John, so I don't want to ever think of this as something that was haggled over. I'm guessing that Mac will want to pay up the difference between what _Swallow _will fetch now and what Mr Jackson paid for her. If not – well you've got the cheque and let me know if more is needed. I can't think of a better way to use some of the money from Father. Anyway, _Swallow _simply must __not__ go to anyone else. Think how we would feel if it was _Amazon_!_

_(And tell that appalling little squirt that if he so much as __breathes__ on _Amazon _without your permission I'll keelhaul him!)._

_If you're still putting off writing to Susan and telling her, could you not tell her for a bit longer? Or at least ask her not to tell John? I'd really rather tell him about it myself – and not until it's all sorted out. Titty is going to be awfully upset too._

_Much love to you and to Mother,_

_Nancy_

* * *

_Dear Nancy,_

_Mr Jackson was more than happy to sell you _Swallow. _She's yours and you paid ten pounds for her. He admitted he had been thinking about how upset the Walkers would be – although he was thinking more about Titty, I believe. _

_I hadn't written to Susan – but Bridget had, and to her mother. I wrote to them both (first class) so I hope my letter got there before they wrote to John, or Titty for that matter. Mother has written to Mac, but no reply yet. It's only been a couple of days._

_Much love, Peggy_

* * *

_Dear John,_

_I've got some news that is both good and bad. I hope you won't mind it too much, love. It certainly wasn't what anyone planned, but I think it will work out for the best._

_The bad bit is that Mac's horrible son has managed to steal _Swallow _and damage her quite badly. Steal in this case means borrow without permission. I don't think being egged on by the evacuee boys staying at Holly Howe constitutes much of an excuse. Luckily they didn't get very far, but _Swallow _came off worse in a collision with Darien or those two rocks near it. Her tiller is broken; she has damage to two planks on her port quarter; the gunwhale on that side is smashed too and she seems to be badly strained. She's been patched and jury rigged. Peggy and Bridget are sailing her round to the boat-builders' today, so we'll hear more presently._

_The good news is that _Swallow _is now yours. Mr Jackson had decided to sell her and so I bought her. She's likely to be mended and waiting for you in the Beckfoot boathouse long before you'll get a chance to sail her again._

_Please don't say anything about going halves or anything, will you? I know how important _Swallow _is to you, and I want to give her to you as a present because I love you. _

_I love you._

_Nancy_

* * *

"Are you sure you're happy to do this, Bridgie?" said Peggy on Saturday morning.

Bridget nodded. Peggy noticed the normally ebullient younger Walker seemed quieter than usual. For the first time, she could see a faint trace of similarity to John in manner. It seemed quite appropriate in the circumstances. Peggy was glad that this would be a much shorter voyage than the one from Horseshoe Cove to Rio.

"This hole is well above the waterline, and it's well patched." Bridget said "I mean where the waterline usually is. And the temporary tiller works well enough. And the wind's quite light. And I'm not bad at swimming. And John did it after all, only with the hole lower down."

"You're jolly good. Jolly good for your age and jolly good altogether." Trying to live up to John, or for that matter Susan, must be pretty daunting, Peggy thought.

" Look here, I think she's a lot more strained this time." Peggy continued aloud. "You'll have to bail her pretty often."

"Should I go in Swallow with Bridget to bail?" Elspeth asked.

Peggy shook her head. "The less weight in Swallow the better. But Bridgie, if you think it isn't working, I'd rather you told me soon rather than later."

Bridget nodded soberly.

And Bridget did it, despite Peggy's misgivings, remarkably well. When they arrived in Rio, the boat-builder looked at the amount of water in Swallow and shook his head, sucking air in through his teeth as he did so. Peggy didn't need him to tell her that _Swallow_ was as badly strained as she had feared. Elspeth and Bridget were given permission to look around, but not touch things.

"Two weeks at least. Most probably three. At least we can still get the wood. And the varnish. No telling what's going to happen, of course. It's not that we've got so much work on at the moment, but there's only me and the lad."

"How is George getting on? Have you heard?"

"Rose came down with the little'un yesterday to read me bits out of his letters. Misses them both, misses Rose's cooking. Nowt else worth mentioning really. Rose mostly wanted someone to talk to. Little'un doesn't talk much yet. Likes chewing on an end of rope well enough. How's your sister getting on then? Funny thing that, man and wife both in the navy."

"Well, Nancy isn't exactly in the navy. She says she's mostly training people at the moment."

The boat builder chuckled. "I'll bet the other lasses don't dare misbehave. Not twice, anyway. Still, maybe she'll be back home before long. I dare say your mum'll be glad. "

"Nancy's enjoying it – and she'd stick with it even if she wasn't. I'd better round up these two. Miss Hetty and Miss Letty have invited us for lunch."

* * *

"Bridget," said Elspeth as privately as she could while Peggy was chatting with the boat-builder. "What are they like?"

"Who?"

"Miss Hetty and Miss Letty. Do you think they're going to not-like me because of Colin?"

"It's not their boat Colin has damaged."

"That wasn't what I meant."

Bridget drew a pattern in the sawdust with the toe of her shoe. She was uneasily aware that she had not behaved especially well when she had first met Elspeth and Colin last summer. Peggy had had something to say about that, too.

"I've only met them once, and I was quite small." she said. "Titty likes them."

She was pleased to see Elspeth nod. It was no news to Bridget that Elspeth thought the world of Titty.

"Bridget! Elspeth!" came Peggy's voice from the other side of a large pile of planks.

"So would you be thinking of following in your sister's footsteps then?" the boat-builder was saying as they approached.

"I'd certainly like to." said Peggy, "but I suppose I need to wait until things have settled down a bit at Beckfoot and the Hardmans have found someone to replace me at the post office. Come on you two."

* * *

"I can swim pretty well." Miss Clare assured Bridget at lunch. "Although I'm not especially fast, I can certainly keeping going. And I'm sure you won't tip me in. Miss Hetty has been telling me how all your family are excellent sailors."

"I've only swum in the sea." Alf admitted. "Is that going to be a problem?"

"How far can you swim?" Peggy asked.

"Maybe four hundred yards? I'm sorry, I never really thought about the distance."

"You'll be fine." Peggy told him. "It's not as if you'll actually need to swim. Bridget makes a fine skipper."

"Aren't you coming with us, Peggy?" Bridget asked.

"I don't mind if there isn't room for me." Miss Clare said quickly.

"I sail to work every week day and most Saturdays." Peggy said. "Miss Clare says she's never been in a boat, not properly."

"Peggy means a sailing boat." Elspeth explained.

"So I gathered." said Miss Clare. "But please, Miss Blackett. I'd rather you called me Betty. You sound as if you're older than me."

"I'm twenty-one." Peggy said. She didn't think she sounded any different to the way she had at sixteen. Perhaps you could hear more in people's voices if you were blind. She would have liked to have asked, but thought it might not be polite. "And I'd rather be called Peggy."

"I'm twenty-one, too." Betty said.

"Perhaps you'd better go now." observed Miss Hetty, as Alf swallowed the last mouthful of syrup sponge. She had apologised for the scanty amount of syrup, but Peggy still thought it very good.

"Thank you very much, Miss Blackett." said Alf, as the children and Betty Clare rose from the table.

Peggy laughed. "You'd better call me Peggy, too!"

* * *

"She feels it very much," observed Miss Letty, as they watched the four of them set off to the landing stage, Betty holding Alf's arm. "which is why I haven't asked yet how Nancy is getting on, but I do want to hear all about it. And while I'm on the subject, Peggy, I think it's time you dropped the "Miss" and called us simply Letty and Hetty."

"Of course, if you like. I'm bound to slip up from time to time, though, so I hope you don't mind. Bridget has a theory that being a sister-in-law makes you somehow more grown-up."

"I don't think that's what makes you seem older so suddenly."

Hetty disappeared into the scullery, leaving her sister to draw Peggy into the sitting room, which now had three half knitted jumpers and several balls of wool scattered about on the armchairs.

"Betty is teaching us to knit, too." said Letty. "Of course it's her living as well, so we mustn't take too much of her time from it. She offered to do the knitting in her own bedroom, but it can't be good for her to work and sleep in the same room. Besides, we love having her company, although perhaps we are dull company ourselves for a young woman."

"Letty, if you wanted to be dull, I don't think you would know where to begin." said Peggy. "But I can understand why Betty might mind hearing about Nancy."

She could understand too what made Hetty withdraw to the scullery – besides the washing up. She thought about the photograph that still held pride of place in the hall. Hetty's fiancé was one of those who never came back from the last war. Was it worse for her because they never married? Would Nancy carry on as bravely as Miss Hetty if John were killed? Peggy's mind shied away from that thought so suddenly that she realised in some confusion that she had actually shaken her head. Letty was watching her sympathetically.

"Yes," she said, "I'd give anything to have had things happen differently for Hetty. But tell be how Nancy is getting on. Is she still in London? What is she doing?"

Peggy recounted what Nancy had told her in letters, and felt surprised it really was so little.

"I suppose," she concluded, "It really isn't so long since she went. Not a complete month yet. It just seems like longer because so much has been happening here."

"But you still wish you weren't here?" Letty asked. "I know you had problems with your great-aunt when you wanted to work in the post-office."

"She didn't agree with us working at all." Peggy replied.

"I think you both did wisely." Letty said. "I sometimes wish we had done something similar – only in our case it was Father who wouldn't hear of it."

"That must have made it more difficult."

"Did you never want to teach, like Nancy? You seem very good with those children." Letty asked.

"Maybe not so good with Colin." Peggy pulled a rueful face. "I was rather fed up of studying by that time. I didn't like being in charge of other people much. Not for long anyway." She grinned at Letty. "Maybe it was sheer laziness – avoiding responsibility." She was the complete opposite of Susan in that respect. Perhaps that was why they had always got on so well. "And teaching seems a rather lonely life in many ways – especially in a small school. The post office certainly isn't lonely."

"So why do you want to leave it now?"

"There are plenty of other people who could do what I'm doing. People who maybe couldn't go off and do something else. People who have to stay here. I'm young and I'm single and I could do something more….more direct."

"What about your Mother?"

"She's got Cook and Bridget and Elspeth for company. Maybe be Colin's more trouble than company, but he might have learned his lesson. Mother says she understands."

It was Letty's turn to smile wryly.

"Our generation knows all about waiting at home and worrying." she said. Peggy had always thought of Letty and Hetty as older than her mother, but the difference was probably only a few years.

"Letty," she said tentatively, "If I do join the WRNS –or the WAAF – why don't you apply for my job in the post-office? You could walk to work in about five minutes and you know everyone local, which helps, and you'd be very good at it. And after all.." Here Peggy paused, not sure if it would be tactful to carry on.

Letty finished for her.

"After all, Father hasn't been here to disapprove for fifteen years. And I think if he knew the situation now, he wouldn't mind. You know Peggy, that's a very good idea."

"What's a good idea?" Hetty asked entering the room.

"If Peggy joins up, I could apply for her job at the post –office."

"Other people might be applying too – but it's certainly worth trying. Is Nancy going to be coming home soon?" Hetty said, picking up a rather small piece of knitting from an armchair before she sat down.

Peggy suddenly felt she had to say something.

"I wish people wouldn't speak as though they think Nancy would just give up and come back on a whim. She isn't like that – neither of us are – but Nancy doesn't give up on things easily and I don't understand why people keep hinting that she might."

Peggy wasn't quite sure why the corner of Letty's mouth quirked slightly, nor why she shot a glance at her sister. Hetty herself laughed outright.

"And you've been steadily getting more indignant on Nancy's behalf?" Hetty said. Peggy nodded. She didn't think it was especially funny.

"I don't think that's what people are thinking at all. They probably all think they are being terribly tactful not asking you if you hope to be an aunt in the near future." Hetty gesticulated with the knitting needles and their little trim of green wool. "Except me. I just need someone small to knit for. It's so slow."

"I never thought of them meaning that." Peggy felt uncomfortably pink about the cheeks.

"Elspeth's not very big." Letty suggested.

"Does she like green?" Hetty asked Peggy.


	4. Chapter 4

**September: Chapter 4**

When they returned from the Misses Martindale's, Bridget and Elspeth decided to put off homework until the next evening. Peggy had the dining room table to herself for once. She had just finished a letter to Susan, a proper one this time. The last one had been no more than a hasty note. Mother had always fretted over whether Mrs Walker would approve of her letting them do various things, and with Bridget in her care this had continued. Peggy was more anxious about what Susan might think. Mother was still _in loco parentis. _Peggy herself was _in loco_ - she didn't know the Latin for older sister. Roger probably would. Perhaps Susan would think she shouldn't have let Bridget sail the injured _Swallow._ She could picture Susan's face, tight-lipped in what Titty and Roger used to call her most native mood. Peggy herself had seldom been the recipient of Susan's meaningful silences. Even when the Amazons had been the ones in trouble it had been Nancy on whom most of the disapproval had settled. It generally was. They liked each other's siblings well enough, but Susan was, and always would be, Peggy's favourite Walker. She was sure the feeling was reciprocated.

Bridget opened the door, stuck her head in the dining room and then came in, closing it behind her.

"I say, Peggy, are you writing to Susan? Because if you are could you put my letter in too, please?"

"Lucky for you I hadn't sealed the envelope. Are you out of pocket money again?"

Bridget nodded.

"What was it this time?"

"A really good ball of string. I don't know if string would be rationed, but even if it wasn't, it might be hard to get. I thought I should buy it while I can."

Peggy laughed aloud. Bridget looked a little offended. Peggy hastened to make amends. After all, hadn't her birthday present to Nancy been a length of rope for just that reason? Peggy had looped it over the hook on the back of the study door with a luggage label tied to it – _Nancy's rope. Keep you mitts off it or I'll shiver your timbers._

"It's just such a John sort of thing to do." she said. Bridget beamed at her. "Put your letter in the envelope then."

Bridget did. Peggy picked up her fountain pen again, hoping that Bridget would take the hint. Writing to Susan or Nancy with Bridget buzzing about was one thing, but Peggy didn't want to be distracted and make stupid mistakes when she was writing to Jim Brading. She hardly knew him after all. Bridget departed. Peggy was about half way through her description of _Swallow's_ voyage to Rio when Colin entered. His manner of doing so was very similar to Bridget's.

"Peggy?"

"Yes, Colin?"

"I can go away if you're busy."

Peggy sighed and re-capped her pen. She turned the letter face down. She only did so because she knew that otherwise she would be thinking about what to write next, but Colin's eyes flinched although the rest of his face remained fairly impassive. He thinks I don't trust him not to try reading it, Peggy thought. Given the circumstances he might be right - if I'd thought about it.

"My letter can wait." was all she said aloud.

Now he had her attention, Colin seemed to find it hard to begin.

"Um, Peggy?"

"Yes?"

"I was wondering.."

"Yes?"

"Were you going to give me the belt? Only I'd rather get it over with."

There was no way Peggy was going to admit that she had been putting off the punishment because she didn't really know how. Peggy had been smacked by Nurse very occasionally of course, when she had been very young. By the time she was Colin's age though, the more usual sanction had been being sent to her bedroom, separately from Nancy, who had usually ended up being sent to in the spare room. Mac had made it quite clear in the letter that he would back up any decision about punishment that the Blacketts chose. Mother had said. "I'll back you up whatever you decide, but I'll leave this to you."

"What would have happened if you'd done something like that at home?" she asked, adding "You'd better sit down."

"It would depend if grandfather was visiting. He does a lot."

Peggy blinked in surprise. "How would it make a difference?"

"He'd say was a real boy. And he'd say that it showed I was brave. He'd probably say it was Mr Jackson's fault for not locking the boat up and that he. Grandfather I mean. was just like that. He'd go on and on and on at Mum if Dad punished me. And 'cause Dad stopped my pocket money to help pay for the damage, grandfather would probably give me some money. At least half a crown."

Well that explained a great deal, Peggy thought to herself.

"The boathouse _was_ locked. It was opened with a stolen key. And at ten years old Colin, you ought to know that stealing is wrong. You ought to have known it long ago. Being a boy isn't any kind of excuse any more than being a girl is. John wouldn't have done that – nor any the other boys I know."

"Bridget keeps saying that about John. I wish she wouldn't. Of course I know that stealing is wrong. But Jack and Derek kept jeering at me and saying I wasn't as brave as them."

"So you decided to show them how brave you were by not standing up to them? And they showed how brave they were by putting all the blame on you?"

"I hadn't thought of it that way. I don't like thinking about things like that. That's rather why I'd rather have the belt and get it over with. Then I've made up for it and I can forget all about it."

"So that you can make the same mistake next time? I don't think that would be really making up for it either. Me belting you won't mend _Swallow, _or give back a day's work to Mr Jackson or put money back into your father's bank account or into Nancy's – although to be honest I'm sure Nancy doesn't grudge it. That's for John's sake, not yours. Thinking about it about it might make you a bit braver, really brave, not just wanting to look it, next time. I don't think forgetting about it will."

"Does that mean you aren't going to belt me?"

"I'm not going to belt you. Your father stopped your pocket money until Christmas, so it stays stopped. I'm not going to interfere with that; Mother won't either." Peggy said. "And Colin, if your grandfather does send you money instead of your pocket money – you realise that your pocket money isn't going to cover the whole of the five pounds difference that your father felt he ought to pay."

Colin nodded. "You mean I ought to give the money to Dad to help towards what I owe?"

"I mean exactly that and I'm glad I didn't have to say it and you saw it for yourself."

"Is John really as brave and good at sailing as Bridget keeps saying?" Colin asked.

"Every bit." Peggy assured him. Colin looked a bit doubtful.

"Have you ever been on _Sea Bear _in a bad storm?" she asked.

He nodded. Then his new policy of honest compelled him to admit, "Dad says it was only a little storm, but it was scary enough."

"_Goblin _is smaller than _Sea Bear_, but John sailed her across the North Sea in a storm."

"Safely?"

"None of the Walkers would be here otherwise. Except Bridget. She was too young to be with them."

Colin nodded. She had evidently given him some food for thought. He waited a little to see if she would say anymore them wandered over to the door. Peggy picked up her pen. He came back again and stood next to her chair.

"Bridget's going to go on about it, isn't she?" he asked.

"The North Sea?"

"_Swallow_."

"Probably. Have you admitted to her yet that you were in the wrong?" Peggy asked.

Colin shook his head.

"Try it. You'll probably find it makes a difference."

Colin considered her recommendation and nodded. He continued to stand there, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"Does not forgetting mean you haven't forgiven me either?"

Peggy put her fountain pen down again and considered.

"No, it doesn't. I've forgiven you. It might take some other people a bit longer. A lot depends on how much you've upset them. And how you behave now of course."

* * *

_My darling Nancy,_

Swallow_ is a wonderful present. My only problem now is that I can't think of anything nearly so wonderful to give you. I wouldn't dare to ask Peggy if her half of _Amazon_ is for sale! You were probably quite right to warn me not to say anything about halves – I won't say it was the first idea to spring to mind – but I did think of it._

_Actually, before I read your second paragraph, I thought your news was something else entirely. And no, of course I won't have minded. Worried yes, but not minded in the way you mean – except that I can understand how much you would mind being stuck at Beckfoot "as if your feet were nailed to the floor." I'm not quite such a devoted husband that I've memorised all your letters – although I'll admit to rereading them a lot. I do remember that bit though._

_If Peggy wasn't there I would worry about Colin's influence on Bridget – although Bridget can be obstinate enough, so perhaps Colin wouldn't have much influence anyway. _

_Thank you again for _Swallow, _although do you realise that she's yours as well? I distinctly remember promising to endow you with all my worldly goods – amongst other promises that I have to admit occupy my mind rather more._

_I love you very, very much._

_John_

* * *

Jim Brading read through the letter a second time before he folded it up and tucked it in the envelope along with the postcard. Up until now he would have given little for the chances of Peggy continuing to write to him after she had run out of picture postcards. This was the fourth. He had no way of knowing how many different views she had. But surely, he thought, she would not have troubled to tell him the whole story about _Swallow _if she did not enjoy their correspondence to some extent. The thing to do was to write the most entertaining letter he could in reply.

* * *

10th October 1939

_Dear Molly,_

_You are doing your bit. They don't sound the easiest evacuees in the world although I've certainly heard worse stories. Anyway, I had a letter from Mary and she seems very glad indeed you sent Margaret Burchard to her. She told me how well those poor little girls seem to be doing with Mrs Dixon, too. It sounds as if they could do with a little motherliness. So even if you've just used local knowledge and gossip (Yes, you do Molly, and very useful it is too, admit it!) to make a few people's lives better you've made a difference._

_Speaking of gossip, Lillian and I met an old friend while doing the same ambulance driver training. We had lost touch over the past few years – she has three children and is married to a senior policeman – quite funny when I think what an ardent communist she was. I think everyone had a small shock when we realised we had all finally grown up and settled down! This war seems especially hard on Nancy and Peggy and their generation. My generation had plenty of time for fun in our twenties. It seems the younger generation are being asked to give everything almost as soon as they've left school. _

_And what's this I hear from Mary about Peggy and Timothy Stedding? I mean from Mary Swainson of course, not Mary Parker. I must say I am very surprised. Not that someone should be taking an interest in Peggy of course, nor even that the age gap must be about ten years. (I know plenty of couples like that who are quite happy.) _

_Yes, we've had ration books too – but no indication yet about when food rationing is to actually start._

_I've seen Nancy twice, briefly. She seems very busy but quite happy. (And for some reason very pleased that Peggy can ride a motorcycle.)_

_I'm sure Bridget will be good company for you if Peggy does join up. She seemed a cheerful, friendly little soul at the wedding!_

_Love to you all, (Lillian sends her love too, of course.)_

_Helen_

* * *

Already, it felt strange to be in her own clothes, but this was something she thought she really should not do in uniform. The unsophisticated North Country girl Nancy had been insisted that she ought to find the whole thing very embarrassing. The Amazon pirate in her would not let her admit to embarrassment. The officer Nancy was now could not help noticing that the young woman doctor was very competent. There was a very faint air of anxiety in about her but her manner was composed, not wasting any time but not appearing hurried either. We could use her, Nancy thought, and a hundred more like her, but she is being very useful where she is.

Dressed, Nancy emerged from behind the screen and smiled at the doctor. She noticed the engagement ring on a fine gold chain around the other woman's neck. That explained the slight air of anxiety, the feeling in the back of your mind you were living from letter to letter however busy your job kept you. Nancy could certainly sympathise with that.

The doctor noticed Nancy's glance and smiled slightly.

"He's with the British Expeditionary Force." The doctor said, touching the ring as if for reassurance.

"My husband is in the Atlantic." Nancy glanced down at the plain gold ring on her own finger.

Their eyes met briefly.

"I can't stop myself thinking that the moment before some dreadful news feels the same as an ordinary one." The doctor gave a wry, gentle smile as she said it.

"So does the moment before something wonderful happens."

Somewhere outside a clock struck the quarter hour. Doctor and patient resumed their appointed roles.

"I'm sure I don't need to tell you this, Mrs Walker," and the doctor handed the small round box to Nancy, "but when one of these doesn't do its job it's usually because it was still in the box."

"Of course. And thank-you." Nancy tucked the box into her handbag.

"Thank you."

As she left the clinic, Nancy thrust her hands into her coat pockets. She smiled as her fingers brushed against the letter from Peggy. From what Peggy's letter said it might not be very much longer until the mate and part-owner of the Amazon made her escape from the post office and the Lake. Nancy grinned. Her sister would be worth any ten other recruits.


End file.
